*sigh* I miss this. This place, I mean. I miss the poems… reading and writing here. I’ve been writing… Just not here…and not really for me. Life has been… relentless… as usual. Not all bad. There’s plenty of good mixed in. So, I’m not complaining. Well… maybe a little… but that’s not why I’m here.
I am just missing this place again… And this part of me that goes with it. I guess it has been put on the back-burner once again. Par for the course. I go in spurts, as usual, and lately I haven’t been reading any poetry, let alone writing any. Shame.
But, I just spent a little while reading back through some of my old poems here, and just miscellaneous posts and comments. Felt good… even if parts are bittersweet. It’s funny how some things never change… but then again, how other things seem as if I’m reading something that came from a complete stranger… even though I know the words by heart.
I like having something concrete to look back on. Reminiscing. I always have. It’s part of the reason I like keeping a journal or diary… because I like to be able to look back years later and remember like it was yesterday. I know sometimes that is not a good thing. I know it’s better to live in the present then to focus too much on the past.
So why IS the past so damn compelling? It’s not like I’ve led some adventurous life. Although I suppose that’s another one of those relative concepts. Still, a lot of it is quite boring. Probably most of it, really. Writing about nothing, like now, seems to be a life-long habit of mine. And when I am actually writing about something? Of course there are good memories, but Lord knows there are also many parts of my life you couldn’t pay me enough to go back and live through again. Yet, I can easily get sucked into hours of reminiscing if I’m not careful… Time never flies faster. Why is that?
Maybe it is so alluring because it is safe. ? The past, I mean. It’s known. Nothing is still up in the air there, ya know? No worries. It’s a done deal. I can look back at something I wrote five years ago, and already know how that chapter ends. And I can look at times that I was worried about whatever, and I can see now whether I actually had anything to be worried about or not. Either way, I can see it didn’t really matter… My worrying, I mean. The pages kept turning, and here I am. Here we all are.
Nah. I don’t think that’s really why I’m drawn to the reminiscing so much. The “known” factor, I mean. I think, I just like remembering. Good things… and bad. Life. In general, I mean.
I’ve always been like that. Which again, partly does explain why I’ve always had a diary since I was a kid. It also partly explains why it takes me forever to clean out my office, or my bedroom… I find it necessary to look at everything.. rather than just put it away. I find myself examining things. Reading things. Listening to things. Looking up things. Feeling things. I get sidetracked easily…
I recently overheard myself telling my 13 year old son that he has the attention span of a gnat.
I wonder where he gets that from?
Maybe, he should start a blog.
Hmm… Maybe he already has one. ?
I would so read that… I mean, if he’d let me. Not like my mom did when she found my diary hidden in my closet, & read it when I was 16. That was really not cool. Neither was the note she wrote me back that day… in MY diary. Yep. She actually wrote a very long, not so nice, letter to me, IN my diary. ! ? Upsetting, right? Yes. It was. I was devastated… horrified even… at that time. But, ya know what? That was a long, loooong time ago. And now? Well, now I’m glad I still have that diary… & my mom’s mean letter. Fun to look back at & read now. LoL *sigh* Good times.Good times. ;-) Sometimes, ya just have to laugh… Frequently, actually, if at all possible.
Did I mention I miss this? This place, I mean.
I hope anyone out there reading this is doing well, and that 2016 is good to you. :-)
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Samantha Mariah Jane 